


have you ever thought just maybe

by returnsandreturns



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dating, Fluff, M/M, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 13:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10899873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnsandreturns/pseuds/returnsandreturns
Summary: “Frank Castle keeps staring at me,” he hisses to Matt, pulling him aside after they finish changing in the locker room.“Why?” Matt asks, frowning.“I—don’t know,” Foggy says. “Do you think he wants to kill me? He looks like he might want to kill me.”





	have you ever thought just maybe

**Author's Note:**

> Part one of two of the high school AU of my heart and soul. More soon!

Matt won’t take his virginity.

“Are you sure?” Foggy asks. “Because I have no evidence of this, but I suspect I’d be _really_ good in bed.”

“I’m sure you would be,” Matt says. “I like girls, though.”

“Me, too, but that doesn’t stop me from doing nice things for my best friend.”

Matt laughs.

“Your first time should be special,” he says, nudging Foggy with his elbow. “Don’t waste it on me.”

“I just want to get it _over_ with. I’m the last virgin in the entire world and I have no excuse besides being awkward and unappealing. I mean, even _you_ aren’t a virgin and you promised your chastity to the _Lord_ ,” Foggy says.

Matt shrugs.

“It was symbolic,” he says. “I wasn’t exactly going to tell a nun that I wasn’t signing their purity pledge because of all the hot premarital sex I was having.”

“You were having _once_ ,” Foggy says.

“It was hot, though,” Matt says, wistfully.

“All thirty seconds,” Foggy says. Matt snorts and shoves him, and Foggy topples sideways on his bed, curling up on his side and sighing out, “I’m unlovable.”

“Shut up,” Matt says. “You’re not.”

“I’m going to die alone,” Foggy continues, gravely. “I’m going to be eaten by my cats.”

Matt sighs his most put-upon sigh that normally means he’s going to do something nice and Foggy shouldn’t make a big deal about it, then moves to lay down behind Foggy and pull him close, snuggling against him.

At some point in their friendship, probably the point where they made out in Marci’s parent’s closet for a game of Seven Minutes in Heaven and valiantly ignored their awkward boners, they kind of threw away the unspoken rules of masculinity that rule out things like friendly cuddling.

Which is lucky, because clearly nobody else wants to touch Foggy.

“I’ll make sure you don’t get any cats,” Matt says, softly.

It would be better if Matt would just get his dick out and get this over with, but the sentiment is nice.

“Thanks, buddy,” Foggy says, patting the hand that Matt has resting on his stomach. “That means a lot.”

*

“No,” Marci says, reaching up to tap Foggy on the nose with one pristine nail.

“Please know that I’m not trying to pressure you into anything,” Foggy says, “but that, if you change that no to a yes, I am your willing slave.”

“As nice as that sounds,” Marci says, dryly, “You’re too cute for me to touch you.”

“. . .explain,” Foggy says, frowning.

“I just can’t be the one to take your fresh-faced innocence,” Marci says. “You’d fall in love with me and follow me around like a duckling.”

“I am not a duckling,” Foggy says. “I am a _man_.”

“You’re an adorable fluffy _duckling_ ,” she says, reaching up to tousle his hair. “You’ve just gotta find someone who’s into that. And who’s willing to touch your junk.”

Foggy groans and drops his head to rest his forehead on the table, murmuring, “Keep touching my hair, please,” so Marci agreeably pets him with one hand while she keeps turning the pages in her history book with the other.

*

“You’re going to reteach me all of that, right?” Foggy asks, nudging Matt with his shoulder while they walk out of Spanish I a few days later. Foggy’s okay enough at languages to pass, but Matt seems to have a knack for them, says it’s his hearing.

“I’ll come over after school,” he says, squeezing Foggy’s elbow lightly where his hand’s curled around it. “You can walk me through whatever the hell Mr. Reynolds was talking about in Trig.”

Foggy’s about to make a joke about cosines when somebody walks between them abruptly, pushing them apart and saying, “ _Faggots_ ,” in a poorly disguised cough. Matt looks rattled for about five seconds before he rights himself and his fist curls around his cane, anger clouding his pretty face over.

The last time Matt looked like that, an asshole senior who was harassing a freshman went home with a broken nose and a week-long suspension. Matt went home with a black eye and a general air of righteous justice. Apparently, he got in a lucky punch and was saved from the zero tolerance fighting rule by the whole blind thing.

“Just leave it,” Foggy says, immediately. The guy’s walking off, anyway, one of the creeps that hangs out with Fisk, that guy who graduated fuckteen years ago and still shows up on campus.

“I hate leaving it,” Matt grits out, and that’s when the guy gets his back slammed against the lockers.

“ _Shit!_ ” Foggy says, emphatically, then, to Matt, “Somebody just pushed that dude into a locker _hard_.”

There’s a big guy in all black hovering over the creep, keeping him up on his toes and pinned to the wall and looking appropriately terrified when he says, “Do that again and it’ll be your skull next time.”

“Is that. . .” Matt starts.

“ _Castle_ ,” Foggy finishes, awe-struck.

The creep says something high-pitched and apologetic before he runs off, and Castle turns to look Foggy over for a half-second before he asks, gruffly, “You okay?”

“Uhm,” Foggy says. Castle raises his eyebrows and he stumbles over a, “Yeah, I’m good, wow, you’re really strong,” and immediately turns bright red.

“What the hell,” Matt whispers, making a face at him.

Foggy thinks he sees Castle’s lip twitch in something that resembles a smile before he walks away, combat boots making intimidating thumps in his wake, and wonders if anybody else in the world has ever seen that happen.

*

“Frank’s cool,” Karen says, when Foggy finds her at lunch to tell her the story.

“I didn’t even know he could _speak_.”

Castle’s got a distinct loner vibe, all dark clothes and scowls and looking way too cool when he smokes behind the dumpsters in the back that Foggy rides by sometimes on his bike after school, all lung cancer considered. There are about twenty rumors floating around about him, most of which involve him killing people and drinking whiskey out of his water bottle.

“He’s the ‘strong, silent type,’” she says, dryly, with heavy air-quotes. “He’s gone through some hard stuff. He’s got a low tolerance for people.”

Foggy nods, thinking too hard about it.

“Is he who you skip class with?” he asks, then gasps, suddenly. “Wait, are you secretly dating him? Karen _Page_.”

“We sneak off campus and get coffee sometimes,” she says, smiling and shaking her head, “but we’re not dating.”

“Oh,” Foggy says.

“I don’t think he dates much.”

“Oh,” Foggy says, again.

He kind of wants to tell Karen that Castle smiled at him, but he’s not even sure why it matters so much to him. He probably smiles at her, too, so it’s not like it’s a _thing._

They eat in silence until Karen grins, suddenly, asking, “Hey, did you pop your cherry yet?”

Foggy groans.

“Marci called me a _duckling_ ,” he says, despairingly.

*

Foggy doesn’t get bullied that often. If asked by a concerned adult, he would say that he never gets bullied. If asked by Matt, who turns into a terrifying mother hen when he hears about anything happening to Foggy, he would say he gets bullied _the normal amount_.

He didn’t expect to just breeze through high school being chubby and smart-mouthed and apparently way more noticeably queer than he once anticipated, so it’s not a big deal. It’ll just be fuel that will make him thrive out of spite in his impending adulthood.

After Castle intervenes the first time, though, the usual gang that just really doesn’t like his hair or the way Matt and him touch or whatever the hell they’re fixated on this time, kinds of ups their ante.

“It’s like he threatened their bullying territory,” Foggy says, sitting on a sink in the girl’s bathroom while Karen holds a scratchy brown paper towel against a cut in his forehead that he got from being pushed and subsequently colliding with a locker door, “and they’re doubling down.”

“If I were a better person, I’d tell you to talk to a teacher,” Karen says, tiredly, “but we both know that won’t do shit.”

“I guess I’ll just live in constant fear for the next two years,” Foggy says, as brightly as he can.

“Did you tell Matt?” she asks, resting a hand on his knee.

“No,” Foggy says, “because he’ll try to literally blindly defend my honor and finally get himself expelled.”

They all met Karen after Matt managed to hit Wesley, arguably the worst of these guys, in the balls with his cane when Wesley wouldn’t stop hitting on her despite her trying to get away. Matt invited her to lunch with them after that, where she said, “ _I_ was about to kick him in the balls, but this guy beat me to it,” and that’s how lifelong friendships are made.

“Yeah, he would,” Karen says, fondly. “ _I’ll_ talk to them, if you want.”

“Karen Page, you beautiful angel,” Foggy says, seriously. “I love you like you’re my own family but that would make it so very much worse.”

She laughs, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“I’m gonna figure something out,” she promises, patting his face. “Keep out of trouble.”

*

Foggy starts to see Frank everywhere. More specifically, he sees Frank watching him with a weird look on his face—from his isolated table in the cafeteria, from across crowded hallways, from the bleachers in the gym while Foggy’s trying to pretend like he’s running laps by making exerted noises.

“Frank Castle keeps staring at me,” he hisses to Matt, pulling him aside after they finish changing in the locker room.

“Why?” Matt asks, frowning.

“I—don’t know,” Foggy says. “Do you think he wants to kill me? He looks like he might want to kill me.”

“Castle doesn’t actually kill people,” Matt says.

“You can’t see the look on his _face,_ Matt,” Foggy says. “It’s written all over it.”

“Murder?” Matt asks, dryly.

“ _Murder_ ,” Foggy repeats.

Matt shakes his head like Foggy’s saying something ridiculous and shoves his gym clothes into his backpack, hefting it over his shoulder and heading for the door with his cane in his hand. Foggy follows him, stepping close when Matt puts a hand out to tuck into his arm.

“Why would Castle bother standing up for you if he wanted to hurt you?” Matt asks.

“Uhm, to save the murdering for _himself_?” Foggy says, and Matt smiles sideways at him, shaking his head.

“I won’t let anyone murder you,” he says. “I promise.”

“That’s sweet,” Foggy says. “You know what would be sweeter?”

“What?” Matt asks, indulgently.

“You not letting me die a _virgin_ ,” Foggy says, and Matt laughs, tipping his head back before he wraps his arm around Foggy’s shoulder as they walk out through the gym. Foggy glances up to see that Frank’s still there, but now he just looks—kind of sad? There’s definitely a hint of melancholy in the glower.

Foggy averts his eyes.

*

He’s going to the bathroom in the middle of his Trig class when he gets jumped by two guys. One of them gets Foggy pinned up against the bathroom wall with an arm twisted behind his back while the other goes through his backpack.

“Look, guys, I appreciate the attention, but you’re really not my type,” he says, trying to squirm away. That gets his arm twisted a little bit more and Foggy hisses.

“Shut up,” the guy with his backpack says. “You seriously only have three dollars in here?”

“You’re seriously stealing my _lunch money_?” Foggy asks. “The 80s called, they want their cliché back— _shit_.”

There’s a sharp pain in his arm and then he’s suddenly free and both of the guys are on the floor. When Foggy turns, he’s face to face with Frank again, who nods vaguely before kicking one of them.

“Oh my god,” Foggy says.

The other one scrambles to his feet and starts to make a run for it and Frank grabs him by the neck of his hoodie and pulls him in close to say something that Foggy can’t hear but that makes the guy’s eyes go wide.

He lets them both leave without killing them, which might mean the rumors aren’t true, and it also means that Foggy’s now alone in a bathroom with him, trying to remember how to talk.

“Uhm,” he says, eloquently. Up close, Frank’s kind of alarmingly handsome, in an—alarming way.                                            

“I’ve gotta go,” Frank says, looking shifty.

“Oh,” Foggy says. “Okay.”

Frank’s rounded the corner by the time that Foggy’s brain fully catches up to the situation.

“Thank you!” he calls.

There’s a prolonged silence and then Frank says, right before the bathroom door shuts behind him, “Watch your back.”

*

“That’s a threat, right?” Foggy asks, after school, when they’re sitting on the front steps. Karen rolls her eyes.

“It’s not a threat,” she says.

“It sounds like a threat,” Matt says, apparently reversing his opinion on Frank’s intentions immediately. “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Do _not_ ,” Karen says. “I’ll talk to him.”

“He _kills people_ , Karen,” Matt says, and Foggy laughs, a little hysterically.

“You told me those rumors aren’t true,” he says.

“That was before he threatened you,” Matt says. Karen huffs out an angry breath, standing up and tossing her hair in that way she does when she’s particularly annoyed with them.

“Frank’s not a bad guy—boys are just all terrible at being people,” she says, seriously. “Don’t be jerks.”

She gives Foggy in particular a look, and he meets her eyes, nodding after a moment.

“He might just be being nice,” he offers, shrugging.

“Hmmph,” Matt mutters.

Karen reaches out to tousle Foggy’s hair, smiling vaguely.

“Stay safe,” she says, pointing at him as she takes the last two stairs backwards before heading down the sidewalk. They sit silently until Matt leans against Foggy suddenly, turning his head to frown at him.

“You need to tell me when people are messing with you,” he says.

“It’s not a big deal,” Foggy says. “Couple of scrapes. A general loss of dignity.”

“It _is_ a big deal,” Matt says. “I know I get less shit than you because people don’t want to get caught screwing with the blind kid, and it’s—it’s not okay. It’s not okay that people treat you like that.”

Foggy smiles at him when Matt’s face goes kind of soft.

“I love you, too, Matty,” he says, and Matt smirks, turning his face away.

“Let’s not give them any more fuel,” he says, which Foggy’s pretty sure means _I love you, too_ in repressed teenage boy language.

*

Foggy gets tripped and kicked hard in the stomach in the middle of the hallway during class changes, his books scattered everywhere. He gets a glimpse of the guy but can’t do anything about it because it’s possible his whole body is broken.

“Shit,” he says, softly, trying to gather his stuff up while people walk over it and feeling frustration building up inside himself. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He’s about to get up when he feels a big hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, god,” Foggy says, jumping, heart racing.

“Sorry,” Frank says, when Foggy whirls around to see it’s him kneeling behind him. The people in the hallway give them more room. “Did you see who did that?”

Foggy shakes his head.

“Just one of those guys, you know,” he says. “Soaked in Axe body spray, full of hate?”

“Right,” Frank says, lips twitching. He takes Foggy’s books for him and stands up with them, offering Foggy a hand to help him up as the bell rings. It’s a nice hand—big and kind of rough, really warm. Foggy feels a little bit like he‘s going insane.

“Do you want to kill me?” he asks.

“. . .no,” Frank says, squinting at him.

Foggy nods. He probably shouldn’t believe him so easily, but there’s something about Frank’s face that’s surprisingly earnest.

“I’m going to skip class,” he says, firmly, “because I am— _very_ tired, and I think I deserve that.”

Frank stares at him.

“What I’m saying,” Foggy says, “is that I need you to show me how to skip class. You’re a delinquent, right?”

“I guess I am,” Frank says, sounding amused.

“Well,” Foggy says, shakily. “Come on, then.”

*

They sit behind the dumpsters, and Foggy watches curiously while Frank smokes a cigarette and doesn’t quite meet Foggy’s eyes until he looks up to see Foggy staring at him.

“What?” Frank asks, gruffly.

“You’ve been watching me,” Foggy says.

Frank takes a long drag, tipping his neck back to blow it into the air and not in Foggy’s direction—which is unfairly distracting—before he says, “Yep.”

“But you don’t want to kill me,” Foggy continues.

“Nope,” Frank says, the word popping on his lips. Also distracting.

“Did Karen tell you to protect me?” he asks.

That was his second theory, after all the murder fear, because Karen’s a good friend with weird and terrifying connections. And Frank’s definitely protecting him, even though he kind of accidentally jump-started some of it to begin with.

“People shouldn’t fuck with you,” Frank says.

“Yeah,” Foggy says. “Yeah, I agree.”

“. . .and Page told me that I should talk to you,” Frank says. “I’m just not good at that.”

“Well, that’s—the only thing I’m good at, actually,” Foggy says. “Can I help?”

Frank looks vulnerable. It’s super weird, and it makes Foggy’s stomach swoop.

“Are you and Murdock a thing?” Frank asks, eventually.

“A—no, definitely not,” Foggy says, because he’s pretty practiced at denying the fact that Matt Murdock is his gay boyfriend that he does gay things with. “We’re nothing. Well, we’re platonic life partners, but basically we’re _nothing_.”

“Oh,” Frank says.

Foggy stares at him for a long time before he gasps.

“ _Oh_ ,” he says.

Frank doesn’t want to murder him at all. He wants to do something _way better._

*

Frank asks him to the movies. He stutters over the words when he says it, and Foggy makes him repeat it just to make sure he heard him correctly because he’s being asked out by Frank Castle behind a dumpster that smells like yesterday’s lunch special and none of this seems real.

“Don’t make me say it again,” Frank says, making a pained face.

“Sorry,” Foggy says. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re not trying to, like, _Carrie_ me.”

“No pig’s blood,” Frank says, and Foggy grins at him.

“Then yeah,” he says. “I’ll go to the movies with you.”

Frank stubs out his cigarette on the pavement before he fishes an ancient iPhone out of his pocket and Foggy tells him his number, gets a blank text a few seconds later and saves Frank as a contact under “ _frank_ ” with a bunch of surprised blushing face emojis.

“I’ll text you,” Frank says.

“Cool,” Foggy says. “Hey, can I try a cigarette?”

“No,” Frank says, shoving the pack back into his pocket as he gets up, giving Foggy a look that might almost qualify as sweet. “They’re bad for you.”

Foggy smiles after Frank as he walks away.

He’s totally getting laid.

*

Foggy’s waiting for Karen and Matt out on the front steps when he hears Karen’s voice behind him saying, “You’ve got a _boyfriend_ ,” and Matt’s voice, from further behind, saying, “HE HAS A _WHAT_.”

He turns around to see Karen grinning at him as she swoops down to sit beside him, nudging him with a bony elbow. Her hair’s up in a high ponytail, and she looks incredibly pleased with herself.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Foggy says, but he’s about as pleased as Karen is. “We barely know each other.”

“Who’s not your boyfriend?” Matt asks. His hand finds Foggy’s shoulder before he sits down on his other side.

“Be cool about it,” Foggy says.

“I’m always cool,” Matt says, and Karen chokes on a laugh. “Hey.”

“Sorry,” she says. “Sorry, you’re totally cool.”

“Frank Castle asked me out,” Foggy says, making sure that he has a good view of Matt’s face when he reacts, eyebrows knitting together and mouth doing that pouting angry thing that Foggy likes so much.

“Isn’t he stalking you?” he asks.

“He was keeping an eye out for me,” Foggy says. “It’s cuter in context.”

“I told him that he had to,” Karen says. “It didn’t take a lot of convincing, though.”

Foggy lets out a sigh and leans into Karen, resting their heads together.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” he asks, then, when Matt starts saying something, “ _Shh_ , I’m asking Karen.”

“Frank’s got a bad reputation,” Karen says, “and he’s probably earned some of it. . .but he’s also a really good guy. And, don’t tell him I told you this, but he thinks you’re dreamy.”

“He did not say the word dreamy,” Foggy says.

“No, but he said, ‘Uhm, he seems okay,’ which is as close as he’ll ever get to saying someone’s _dreamy_ ,” Karen says, laughing. “I think you’ll have fun together. Plus, you’re right on track to getting naked with someone before we graduate.”

“I _know_ ,” Foggy says.

Matt makes a distressed noise, and Foggy turns to smile at him.

“Matthew?” he asks.

“I’m trying to withhold judgment,” Matt says, as calmly as he can. “I’m actually going to talk to him this time, though.”

“Oh, wow, maybe don’t,” Foggy says, cheerfully.

“He needs to know what’s going to happen if he hurts you,” Matt says, standing up, ignoring Foggy when he tugs on his sleeve. “It’s standard best friend protocol.”

“He is a very large person,” Foggy says. “With fists. And—no, you know what, I’m actually kind of into the idea of you two fighting over me. Just don’t get yourself murdered.”

“He doesn’t kill people,” Karen says, sternly.

*

That night, he sends Frank a text: _srry in advance if matt threatens u w/ a shotgun._

It takes a few minutes before Frank replies: _you have good friends_.

Foggy smiles at his phone for awhile, then sends: _movies tomorrow? after school?_

Frank replies _sounds good_ with a smiley face, which makes Foggy laugh for about ten minutes before he just goes for it and sends a heart emoji.

Dating is terrifying.

Frank sends a heart back.

Foggy grins so hard that it hurts and sends a screencap to Karen immediately followed by fifty exclamation marks. Karen sends a series of enthusiastic emojis and tells him that she’s bringing Marci over in the morning to help him pick out an outfit.

**Author's Note:**

> originated on [tumblr](http://returnsandreturns.tumblr.com)!


End file.
